by Leo McNeir
“And then what?” Marnie coaxed.
“And then he’ll hate me.” She breathed in as if on the verge of sobbing. “And I’ll deserve it.”
Marnie glanced round at Donovan, who was concentrating intensely.
“Look,” she said, “why don’t we all just sit down, pour ourselves some coffee and have something to eat.” She began guiding Anne out to the dining table. “Whatever it is that’s troubling you, Anne, I can’t imagine there’s anything you could do that would ever make Donovan hate you.”
When Anne was seated at the table, Marnie said, “Donovan, would you like to pour the coffee while I get the croissants?”
“Sure.”
He did as Marnie had asked, laying a hand on Anne’s shoulder before taking his place opposite her.
Marnie offered the basket of croissants to Anne, who shook her head. To her surprise, Donovan stood up, reached across the table and put a pain au chocolat on her plate.
“I know these are your favourites, Anne. That’s why I bought them. I’m sure you can manage one. I nearly had a heart attack when I was getting them.”
Anne looked up sharply. “You what?”
Donovan smiled. “Just as I was paying for them a policeman came up and started talking to me. I thought it was going to start all over again. But it turned out he was just impressed with my pronunciation of French.”
“You were buying them in French?” Marnie said, uncomprehending.
“They were labelled with French names, so I … I used them.”
“Okay,” she said. “So are you going to tell us what happened?”
“Of course.”
“Donovan …” Marnie began. “I want to know how things turned out, but I’m assuming because you’re here, everything’s okay. What I think we should deal with first – for Anne’s sake – is what she said about you working things out … and what your reaction might be. Can we do that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Have you worked it out, as she said you would?”
“Possibly.” A hint of doubt in his voice.
Throughout this exchange, Anne was sitting with her head bowed. “I’m really sorry,” she murmured. “I should’ve known …”
“Known what?” said Marnie. “This is all a mystery to me.”
Donovan looked from Marnie to Anne and back again. “At the risk of sounding like a cliché, I think it is fairly obvious what Anne had in mind. And actually, it’s not her fault, it’s mine … what you might call a sin of omission.”
“And can we clear it up here and now, once and for all, and set Anne’s mind at rest?”
Anne was now staring at Donovan with eyes wide open. She and Marnie gave him their complete attention as he told his story, while the French viennoiserie went cold in their basket on the table.
*
Ralph was feeling rather proud of himself. He may not have won the Nobel Prize for Economics – yet – but he had managed to log on to the Internet with his laptop. Anne would be proud of him, too. He was delighted to be able to check financial and business websites around the world from the comfort of his study on Thyrsis, which was still moored in Cassiobury Park. He was reading an online article in the Los Angeles Times about new developments in the California computer industry when his mobile rang.
“Lombard.”
“Ralph, good morning. It’s Philip … Philip Everett. Is Marnie with you?”
“No. She’s gone into London to see you.”
“Pity. I was hoping to catch her.”
“She left ages ago. Aren’t you meeting at eleven?”
“That’s just it. The site agent wants to put it back till twelve.”
“I didn’t realise anyone else was involved. Nor did Marnie, I think. But is there some reason why you aren’t having this conversation with Marnie direct?”
“Her mobile seems to be unavailable.”
“That’s odd. It’s not like Marnie to switch it off when she’s on the move. Look, Philip, I suggest you try the landline at the flat. Do you have the number to hand?”
After disconnecting, Ralph sat thinking. Marnie never switched her mobile off. The only exception would be if something came up that was so important she could not be interrupted. Ralph’s thoughts roamed over all the possible subjects that might fall under that heading. They came to rest on Donovan.
*
When Donovan reached the end of his story he picked up a pain aux raisins from the basket and peeled off a piece. Anne slumped forward with both elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands. Marnie sat quietly thinking while Donovan ate his pastry. He took a sip of lukewarm coffee.
“It’s odd,” he said, “but we’d probably call this a Danish pastry. The Danes call it Viennese bread, and the French group all this sort of thing together as Viennese.”
“What do the Viennese call it?” Marnie asked, absentmindedly.
“Not sure,” Donovan held up his half-eaten pastry. “I suppose they’d call this sort a Schnecke – a snail – because of its swirling shape.”
Marnie reached across the table and laid a hand on Anne’s arm. “Anne?”
Anne drew back and sat staring ahead, looking drawn and weary. Donovan rose from his seat, walked to the other side of the table, knelt beside Anne and put an arm round her thin shoulders.
“There’s no problem, Anne,” he said quietly. “If there’s any fault it lies with me. Maybe I should’ve explained things sooner. No-one could blame you for thinking I was … a murderer.”
“You’ve never invited discussion of what actually happened that day, Donovan,” Marnie said, “but I think you can understand why we thought you probably had shot Brandon.”
“I had a good reason, Marnie. I thought you might’ve worked out what it was.”
Anne started to speak, but her voice was a croak. She cleared her throat. “I think I’ve worked it out … for once.”
“Good,” Donovan said. “It’s no great mystery.”
Marnie gave Anne an encouraging look.
Anne said, “Did you think that if you said nothing about it, we wouldn’t be somehow implicated? If anyone questioned us, we could say honestly that we really didn’t know what had happened.”
Donovan nodded. “That’s about it.”
“There’s a part of your story that you missed out,” Marnie said. “You managed to get in close to Brandon when his people were taking down his rostrum in the park, didn’t you?”
“Yes, like I told you. I infiltrated the group by joining in with the work.”
“Then you tagged along with them as they walked back to his HQ nearby.”
“That was a stroke of luck, Marnie. I didn’t know where his base was located, but it was fortunate that they could go on foot. If they’d had to use transport, I would probably have been left stranded.”
“And they just let you go with them.”
“Yes, for the inevitable two reasons, I think. One was that the members of the group that day had come from all over the country. They didn’t all know each other. The second was that I was dressed as your total Nazi … in the black SS uniform that’s currently in my bag in your living room, by the way.”
“Didn’t they think that rather over-the-top?”
Donovan chuckled. “You should’ve seen the rest of them. Half of them tried to look the part. Everyone was in black. I just looked more authentic.”
“And you were carrying a gun.”
“Not openly. I had the Luger in my rucksack.”
“Was it loaded?”
“I had five rounds in the magazine.”
“Where did you get them from?” Anne asked, her tone subdued.
“They were with the gun when my grandfather found it.”
“At the end of the war?”
“Yes.”
“Would the bullets still fire after all that time?” Marnie asked.
“I don’t know … and I never found out.”
“That’s the part of your
story you didn’t complete,” Marnie said. “Who fired the shots?”
Donovan shook his head. “I was reaching into the rucksack when the first shot rang out. A voice from behind me called out, Get down! At first I froze. I couldn’t believe this was happening. That was when I saw Brandon. He’d pitched forward and was down on one knee, holding his neck. Blood was seeping through his fingers. Then the man next to me pulled me to the ground just as the next shot went off, quickly followed by a third. I heard someone running away, so I looked up in time to see a man disappearing round the corner of the street. I got up from the ground and ran after him.”
“Did you see who it was?” Marnie said.
“No. I was too slow. That was the strangest thing. He’d just vanished.”
“How?”
Donovan shrugged. “He must either have ducked into a house or got into a vehicle.”
“A pre-planned execution,” Marnie said quietly. She looked at Donovan. “Like yours, in fact. Did you have a getaway plan?”
Donovan hesitated. “No. I didn’t know where I’d be when it happened. And in any case, I didn’t necessarily expect to get away …”
At that moment the phone rang. Marnie took the call in the kitchen area. It was brief, and she was back at the table within a minute, during which time neither Donovan nor Anne had spoken.
“That was Philip. The meeting’s been put back to twelve.” There was no response. “Why don’t I make some fresh coffee?”
“Good idea,” said Donovan.
Anne was on her feet before Marnie could move. “I’ll do it.” She seized the cafetière and turned quickly towards the kitchen. “It’ll give me something to do.” She was filling the kettle when Donovan spoke.
“I’m sorry to have been the cause of so much… anguish. I told the BW officer I’d be going back to Germany for a while. I think that might be for the best.”
“But what about your project, the filming?” Anne said.
“I’ve got a lot of material in the can. I can probably round it off with shots of the completed dig when I get back.”
“Donovan …” Marnie began. “I think what Anne really means is, she wants you to stay.”
Donovan shrugged. “Then I’ll stay. I just thought it might be easier if I –”
“No,” said Marnie. “Nothing has really changed, has it?”
“I suppose not,” Donovan said. “Up till now you thought I’d killed Brandon. Now you’ve found out that I didn’t.” A smile crept across his face. “I feel I’ve rather let you down.”
Anne called out from the kitchen. “You just can’t get the assassins these days.”
There were three seconds of silence before they started laughing.
*
After breakfast Marnie opted to stay in the flat and take a shower. She would use the hour gained by the postponement to prepare for the meeting. Anne offered to stay and join in, but Marnie said it would just be routine. Anne could go with Donovan in case he had more filming to do and needed help with sound recording.
When Anne and Donovan set off for the site, they knew Marnie was just giving them a little time alone together. They had barely left the building when Anne spoke.
“I must say you played it very cool when that policeman came for you.”
“As soon as he said I had to present myself at New Scotland Yard, I knew it would be okay.”
“How did you work that out?”
“If they’d wanted to arrest me, he would’ve done it there and then. They’d hardly ask me to travel to the Yard unescorted. It would be like sending me to Ikea to get a flat-pack self-assembly arresting kit.”
Donovan chuckled. Anne remained serious. Suddenly she stopped and turned to him.
“Donovan, there’s something I have to say.”
“There’s no need.”
“Yes there is. I want to tell you how bad I feel about … what I’ve been thinking all this time.”
“It’s fine, Anne.”
“But all along I’ve thought you’d …” She lowered her voice, aware of other people passing by in the street. “… done it. That’s why I feel so awful.”
“Well don’t. You’ve understood why I never spoke about what happened. I didn’t want you to be implicated in any way. What I never said, you couldn’t know.”
“That doesn’t alter the fact that I believed you were capable of …” Anne shook her head, unable to finish the sentence.
Donovan took hold of her arm and stopped walking. “Anne, what do you think I was trying to do?”
“Probably try to infiltrate Brandon’s inner circle to …” She searched for the words. “… spy on him?”
“No. Don’t have any doubt about it. I went there to shoot Brandon. To me, he was potentially another Hitler.”
“He wasn’t as bad as that, was he?”
“That’s what they thought about Hitler in 1933 when they elected him. What’s that saying about hindsight always being twenty-twenty vision? The fact is, we don’t know what Brandon might’ve done.”
“So you really would’ve done it.”
“Ultimately, Anne, someone has to take responsibility. I didn’t want other families to suffer under the Nazi threat as mine had in Germany.”
Anne looked thoughtful. “But someone beat you to it. Any idea who it was?”
“None at all.”
“But you think it was probably another anti-Nazi like you?”
Donovan shrugged. “Or a rival from within the far right who thought Brandon was getting too powerful.”
“Would they do that?” Anne said, incredulous. “They were all on the same side … weren’t they?”
“These are dangerous people, Anne. Don’t forget, the SS massacred the SA Brownshirts in a power struggle.”
Anne frowned. “It’s funny, isn’t it?”
“Funny?” Donovan’s turn to sound incredulous.
“I mean, it’s funny how nothing has changed over the years. Here we are standing near the place where river pirates murdered people and were hanged for it, and we’re going off to film the remains of a man who was put to death for some unknown reason over a thousand years ago.”
“I suppose so. It seems to be the way of the world.”
Anne looked into his eyes. “There’s got to be a better way.” She reached forward and hugged him, whispering in his ear, “I do understand, but I’m so glad you didn’t do it.”
Passers-by smiled at the sight of the young couple in their embrace; the charm of young love. Donovan held Anne to him without speaking. He knew better than to say what was in his mind.
I may not have pulled the trigger, but – to borrow a phrase – I was just a shot away.
*
Marnie was barely out of the shower, towelling herself dry, when Philip rang her mobile. He asked if she was ready for the meeting. Glancing up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She was naked from head to foot and dripping water onto the bathroom floor. Too professional to tell Philip the whole truth, she simply said she would be ready in fifteen minutes or so.
“The thing is, Marnie, we’re going to hold the meeting in the hotel across the river.”
“Really? Why don’t you just pop round to the flat?”
“The situation has changed. There are more people involved. I’d rather keep it impersonal …neutral ground and all that.”
“Is there a problem, Philip?”
“It’s mainly a question of timing. The contractors are complaining about the dig as usual. They’re worried about delays.”
“Well, at least we can say we’re not holding them up.”
Philip paused. “That’s not quite how they see it, Marnie.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They’re muttering that our team is involved with the archaeologists and thereby contributing to the timetable being extended.”
“I don’t see how they … ah … you mean Anne working with Donovan on the filming.”
“That must be
it,” said Philip. “The builders are saying there’s nothing in the contract about filming on site.”
“But they’re only recording the work as it goes along,” Marnie protested.
“Nevertheless, the contractors think we’ve got some sort of private arrangement favouring the archaeologists.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Prestige … kudos … reputation. Think of the publicity for the firm, Marnie, being involved in such a high-profile discovery.”
“But we’re not involved, not directly. That’s absurd!”
“Even so, the suggestion is it must be causing some delay. In addition, they’re claiming that the site directors are often absent, leaving the students twiddling their trowels.”
“Will the archaeologists be present?”
“Not this time. The contractors want to prepare a united front in private.”
“Sounds like we’re gearing up for a real confrontation.”
“I’m afraid so, Marnie. What we have to do today is assure them we’re not contributing to delays. We need to be open and transparent … show them we have absolutely nothing to hide.”
“I’ll do my best,” Marnie said, suppressing a smile as she glanced again in the mirror.
*
When Marnie reached the construction site a short while later a smart metallic grey minibus was waiting by the entrance, and a small group of builders and consulting engineers was chatting beside it. She was about to join them when she spotted Donovan and Anne filming Dick near the dig. Dick was talking to camera in animated fashion, pointing down into the excavation. Donovan was bending forward looking into the viewfinder of the camera on its tripod, while Anne was crouching to one side, holding the microphone in its furry jacket. After a few seconds she heard Donovan’s voice ring out: Cut!
The contractors seemed to be in no hurry to board the minibus. Marnie asked one of the managers if she had time to speak with her colleague. With a glance at his watch he announced pointedly that they would be leaving in exactly seven minutes. Marnie gave him a brilliant smile and set off for the staff hut, signalling on the way to Anne to join her.
Anne was accompanied by both Donovan and Dick. Marnie explained that she had very little time before leaving for the meeting.
“I’m glad you’re here, Dick. Listen, do you have a programme for the dig?”